The Storm-Bringer
by WolfgangVZ
Summary: A man explains why an experience from his childhood has left him terrified of thunderstorms.


You've asked me to explain why am I afraid of thunderstorms? Why does the roar of thunder send a nauseating shiver down my spine? And why does the crackle of lightning terrify me so? For years, others have noted my peculiarity and so I have decided to relay the most horrifying experience of my life and leave it up to the individual to judge whether or not my aversion to thunderstorms is justified. It is mistakenly thought that supernatural events only happen in far-off places to singular people with no witnesses to corroborate the tale. It happened to me one mid-summer's afternoon, on my very own front porch, with my faithful companion, Littany, at my side to bear witness to the whole thing.

In my youth, I admit I was quite fond of thunderstorms; there is something in the majesty of it all that mesmerized me without fail: the cool air after a blistering heat, the soothing pitter-patter of rain as it hits the ground, how one could be outside in the open, yet, still remain under a guise of privacy as the rest of the world shut themselves up inside their houses, and then there was the loud crack of thunder and flash of lightning that were always a thrill to witness in my blissfully ignorant youth. Now, I too shut myself up inside my house whenever a sudden thunderstorm rolls through, although, it's for very different reasons than just getting a little wet.

My name is Phillip H. Craft and I had never heard about the mythical "Storm-Bringer" until the day that I saw it. It happened to me one afternoon in mid-summer when I was a young boy, just at the cusp of ten years old. This, I remember, because I had recently acquired my very first pokemon: a litten, whom I promptly named "Littany," one of the more clever double-entendre from my youth if I may say so, as a tribute to my favorite pastime: literature. You see, ever since I was born I had always been quite frail and sickly; this often prevented me from going outside to play and so books became my escape. I had aspirations, even back then, on becoming a writer but my parents encouraged me to become a Pokemon Trainer once I had turned ten, believing that the fresh air, exercise, and social interaction would greatly improve my health, and so it did, to an extent.

One day, Littany and I were relaxing on my front porch after a vigorous morning of play and training, defeating three pikipeks, one caterpie, and discovering a nest of baby Alolan rattata before we were ran off by their raticate mother who chased us nearly all the way back home. Littany and I were lolling around on the front porch after lunch when it happened: out of nowhere, the bright sunny skies suddenly turned a sinister grey and a strong gust of wind rolled through my small neighborhood. Instantly, the usual noise of the hustle and bustle of a normal summer's day silenced, almost as if on cue with the first crackle of thunder, and all the people of the town shut themselves up inside their houses. I decided to stay on my front porch and watch the rain, enjoying the cool breeze as the soft pitter-patter of rain lulled me off to sleep with Littany, who was securely curled up in my lap, protected from stray rain drops in my arms, and purring away contently. The two of us were rocked awake suddenly from our peaceful slumber by a boom that must have shook the whole town and that's when I saw it.

I rubbed the sleep haze from my eyes and looked up into the sky and there it was: a flying monstrosity whose bright yellow color contrasted profoundly against the dark charcoal storm clouds that were rushing in behind the creature. As the thing flew overhead and the skies darkened, I saw bolts of actual lightning emit from the creature's body, utterly obliterating anything in its path. I remember that its entire body was covered in spiked feathers, jutting out like a million shining knives, and it screeched horribly when it opened its long, thin beak, yet, what terrified me the most was when I realized that the roaring thunder was not the result of far-off lightning strikes, but rather it was the sound of this tremendous monster's beating wings.

Fear froze me to the spot for what seemed like an eternity until I heard Littany growling lowly, and then I saw that he too was staring straight up into the sky, with his large, unblinking, yellow-red eyes completely fixated upon the anomalous stranger. I knew then that this was not a dream and that what we were experiencing was terrible, unfettered reality. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, it was gone; disappearing into thick black storm clouds as rain came pouring down in a torrential flood, obscuring our view. Frightened beyond measure, I ran inside, screaming frantically for my parents as Littany scrambled in close behind me.

Appearing before my parents as a shamble of my usual self, trembling and babbling wildly, I relayed my experience as best I could with Littany by my side, who echoed my fright and punctuated my sentences with loud, determined mewlings as if he were trying to say, "I saw it too!" My parents stood there in disbelief as I described the monster and when I was finished they exchanged a deeply worried look between the two of them as they both spoke simultaneously in a low whisper, "The Storm-Bringer." My interest was immediately piqued and so I begged my parents to explain further.

My father spoke up, "the legend of the Storm-Bringer has been passed down in this region for generations, going back longer than anyone knows. Some think that it's a god, some think that it's a demon, but most people nowadays would probably believe that it's a Pokemon. The Storm-Bringer is said to be an enormous bird-like monster that creates thunder with the beating of its great wings and controls lightning with its eyes. It is said that the creature doesn't like to be seen, and if you were to look into the eyes of the Storm-Bringer, or if it sees you, it would mean certain death. However, it is simple enough to avoid the monster; it always brings the same warning with it whenever it's nearby: a sudden thunderstorm. That's why they call it the 'Storm-Bringer.'"

Before my father could say any more, my mother suddenly interrupted. "I'm sure you were just dreaming! You've heard this all before when you were too little to remember it. That's all. Besides, the Storm-Bringer is just an old wives' tale. It's not real." My mother told me, but I don't think that I have ever truly believed her. It would surely help my shaky nerves if I could dismiss thinking about what deadly horror looms just out of sight whenever it rains. All that I can say is that I now hate thunderstorms and I grow feint whenever I hear thunder or see lightning. And to this day I avoid being outside in a thunderstorm at all costs for this one reason above all others: Littany, now a full-grown Incineroar and my only cooperating witness, remains just as terrified of thunderstorms as I am.


End file.
